


Ex Nihilo

by Gnilnim27



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, BAMF Lagertha, First Time, M/M, alpha!ragnar, omega!athelstan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnilnim27/pseuds/Gnilnim27
Summary: An alpha/omega verse AU where omega Athelstan is gifted to King Ragnar as tribute.
  The sound of heavy boots making their way across the stone floor made Athelstan jump. A finger slid under his chin, tilting his face up, forcing Athelstan to meet the gaze of the man - no, the alpha before him.

  “What is your name?”





	

Athelstan’s hands shivered on his lap. Kneeling down on the hard stone floor of the hall in his simple white robe, among rolls of silk, satin and fur rugs, the numerous gilded chests that probably held more than his weight in gold. It felt dehumanising. Around him, several people stood oh-ing and ah-ing at the splendor that laid before them.

He felt an intense gaze burn into him. Athelstan kept his eyes firmly glued to the floor, fearing that if he were to look up, he would lose the last of his nerves. It would do him no good to empty his gut onto the floor. He might lose his head because of it.

To his left he heard the speaker announcing the source of the various tributes and the well wishes that came with them. 

“Lord Maric sends 25 pelts that he hunted down and killed himself.”

“Earl Jorik sends his best regards with 500 meters of hand woven silk,” the man announced, as if there was any other way of making silk.

“And this is?” A quiet but scarily commanding voice said from the far front of the room. “Quickly speaker, he looks to be on the verge of fainting,” the voice added. It wasn’t snappish per say but one could sense a thinly veiled threat through it. The hall fell silent. If Athelstan thought that the place had been quiet before it was nothing like this. 

“The-the people of Lindisfarne send their humble well wishes and their omega as tribute,” the speaker stammered.

The sound of heavy boots making their way across the stone floor made Athelstan jump. A finger slid under his chin, tilting his face up, forcing Athelstan to meet the gaze of the man - no, the alpha before him.

“What is your name?” he asked in a tone that was almost gentle. The man before him had shaven sides, a long blond braid down his back, bread (?) and piercing blue eyes. For a King he wore no luxuries on his person. He was tall, broad, typically built of an alpha. Athelstan found that his wit had deserted him.

When Athelstan merely looked back dumb and wide-eyed, the speaker said, “He is an omega of little consequence-”

“Speaker do not test my patience, I am sure the omega can answer for himself. He has after all lips and tongue,” he warned, his eyes never leaving Athelstan’s. “Tell me, little omega. I will not hurt you,” the King said in a much gentle tone.

“I-I am Athelstan of Lindisfarne. And he is right, I am of little consequence,” he admitted. He knew why he was here. He was only here because his homeland had not anything else to give this year. Lindisfarne was a small and humble island, they had just enough to get by. And they were desperate for protection from the great King Ragnar Lothbrok.

The king nodded. He stroked down the side of Athelstan's cheek then offered him his hand. It made Athelstan shiver from fear and something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He wasn't sure if he liked the new foreign feeling within him.

Hesitantly, he took the alpha’s hand, shaking so hard that the other man must have felt it because he held Athelstan’s smaller hand tighter. 

*****

Athelstan did not know why he was so sure that the alpha king would have thrown him down on the floor of the very halls and ravaged him. Now that he had time to calm down a bit, it was quite silly a thought. 

After all, the man was king. He might not even want Athelstan that way. He probably had plenty of omegas of ‘consequence’ to choose from. Or so Athelstan hoped as he chewed on a piece of bread for a particularly long time. 

The king had insisted that he dine with them at the same table as his wife and children. The children looked at him with open curiosity like he was some sort of new animal that their father had brought home and regarding the circumstances, he might as well be. 

“I never met another omega before,” the girl at the table said. The oldest boy at the table looked at her as if he were unsure about her topic of conversation. 

Athelstan blinked. He wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Mother says that there is nothing wrong with being an omega,” she continued. 

“There isn’t,” the blond woman who spoke in a no-nonsense tone said as she took a sip of her wine. 

Easy for you to say, thought Athelstan. The girl’s father was king; he could afford the herbs that would block her heat and protect her from dangerous alphas that looked to bond an omega to their will. In fact, since many in the royalty were alphas, her omega status would do her house great value in the future.

Omegas lived in a status of two extremes. On one hand, an unwanted burden to the poor, often killed at birth. On the other, a revered status by the nobility who used their omega children to tie down alpha leaders of other houses. 

“They say that a bond between an alpha and omega is unbreakable,” she said in such youthful enthusiasm that it filled Athelstan with a sense of wonder of the kind of sheltered life she must have lead. Unbreakable yes, for better and for worst.

“That’s enough,” the king said, though not unkindly, saving Athelstan from any more awkwardness. 

As he rose from the table he looked at Athelstan expectantly. Athelstan looked around the table. The queen’s eyes were on her cup, suddenly finding her wine to be of utmost interest to her. The girl looked confused while her brother looked entirely too focused on the food on his plate.

Athelstan felt his gut roll as he rose to follow behind the alpha. His knees felt weaker with each step he took, the wide corridor seemed to narrow the further along they walked. His heart was in his throat, and his lungs had disappeared somewhere between the dining hall and the corridors. 

He recalled an old omega telling him that, “All you need to do is get on your hands and knees, arch your back. Then close your eyes and pray. It will only hurt a little.”

By the time the alpha opened the door to the room, Athelstan felt a little dead inside. The alpha turned and took one look over him before he sighed. 

“Come, little omega,” he said. It was again in a quiet tone that was almost kind. 

Athelstan shuffled in front of him. “I don’t want to hurt,” he mumbled, the words barely making it past his lips. 

An unreadable look crossed the alpha’s face. He raised a hand and cupped Athelstan’s cheek, wiping away a tear he didn’t know he had let slip.

For a moment, Athelstan thought that he might kiss him; he could almost feel his breath against his lips and his blue eyes were strangely calming. 

“Good night, little omega,” the king whispered and suddenly the heat of his presence was gone with the door shutting heavily behind him. 

Athelstan sagged and let his entire body fall sideways on to the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears streamed down his cheeks and his body heaved with sobs.

***** 

The morning greeted him with the light of warm sunshine peeking through the window. Athelstan rolled over in his bed and looked at the stone ceiling so unlike the one he was used to seeing growing up.

He ran his hands over his face and through his brown curls. When he looked up everything was still the same. He was still here. This was his home now. 

His door opened suddenly and Athelstan jumped. He rolled off the bed and onto his feet so fast that it made his head spin. 

His intruder looked at him in alarm. It was a young beta girl carrying some clothes in her arms, no more than a child. Athelstan guessed that she may be no older than the princess herself. 

“Are you alright?” she asked as she watched him sway on his feet, not daring to come too close to him for some reason.

Athelstan steadied himself and nodded. “Yes, thank you,” he replied slowly.

The girl beamed, clearly relieved. “My apologies, your grace. I didn’t know you were already up.”

“Your grace?” the omega asked, shocked. He felt his head spin just a little more as he reached out to steady himself against the surface of the chest set at the end of his bed. 

“Are you not ‘your grace’, your grace?” she asked, peering at him curiously.

“I’m pretty sure that I’m not,” Athelstan maintained as the servant looked at him from his head to his toes. 

“If you say so,” she said uncertainly. “What would I call you then?”

“Athelstan,” the omega replied simply, as the young servant continued to look at him as if he were the strangest thing she had ever seen.

“Very well, Athelstan. I was told to draw a bath for you when you awoke. Would you like it now, Athelstan?” she said, still not quite certain but amiable enough to go along with Athelstan’s wishes.

“I… suppose,” Athelstan replied hesitantly as he picked at the frayed ends of his sleeves.

“Good! I shall do it now,” she announced with enthusiasm. She struck him as the kind of child that did most things with a great amount of enthusiasm. It was almost moving.

“Alright,” Athelstan said, following the beta girl out.

“What are you doing?” she cried, turning around to face him in shock.

“Don’t you need help?” he asked as he looked at her small frame.

The girl looked at him like she was trying to figure out a particularly tricky puzzle. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to let you do that…,” she said slowly, her fine brows creasing together. 

Athelstan’s heart sank. He had a servant or at least people waiting on him. She would be one of them. He wondered what that all meant for him. How he felt must have showed on his face because the girl patted his arm comfortingly.

“I suppose you could help me carry the cloths,” she said kindly. Athelstan smiled down at her. 

“And what is your name?” he asked as he took the cloths from her arms.

“Þórunn,” she replied. Þórunn. He felt like he might have found a friend in the child.

*****

The bath was drawn in a separate room, unlike the cloister, where baths were multiple barrels packed into one large chamber. There baths were a necessity, taken only when needed and the water was almost always cold. 

Looking at the clear steaming tub of water before Athelstan reminded him again of just how far away he was from home. 

“You should get in before it gets cold,” Þórunn told him from behind a wooden screen, jarring Athelstan to the present. 

Athelstan took off his robe, feeling oddly self-conscious simply from knowing that there was someone behind the wooden screen. He briefly wondered if he could tell her to wait outside but then decided against it. She might get in trouble. If people saw her lingering outside they might mistake her for skipping on her chores. 

Resigning himself to this strange new arrangement, he slid into the bath. The water was deliciously warm. He fought to stifle the groan that escaped his throat, fearing the inappropriateness of it in the presence of a child. 

Just when he was about to let his thoughts wander to useless things like the fantasy of escape and the future, Þórunn’s shout shook him to his core.

“You can’t be here!” she cried from behind the screen. Athelstan got out of the bath and wrapped his old robe around himself quickly. Not that it’d be much protection. “STOP!” she shouted.

There was a high pitched squeal and Athelstan pushed the screens apart, his heart pounding so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

He came face to face with a tall broad alpha who reminded Athelstan of a very large and dangerous bear. The omega swallowed but he move quickly to place himself between the strange alpha and the child.

“Athelstan, don’t!” the child said in alarm as Athelstan forced himself to meet the alpha’s eye. It was a challenging move that may very well end with his skull dashed against the wall. For whatever reason he felt that he should not, could not submit to this stranger.

The alpha raised his hand, but instead of striking him, he grabbed his jaw roughly in one big hand. Athelstan felt how brittle he was. He could easily be crushed in the one palm of this man’s hand.

From behind him, Þórunn slithered out of the chamber. Good, thought Athelstan, saves her from whatever unpleasantness that was to come. 

“Rather defiant aren’t you? So very different from the omega I saw in the halls,” the alpha said. He had a voice that came from his chest, a slight rumble that probably made mere men shook when he shouted his battle cry.

 

Athelstan screwed his eyes shut as the alpha pressed his nose against the unmarked skin where his neck met his shoulder. “He hasn’t claimed you yet,” he noted, his other arm moved up to grip the side of Athelstan’s waist in something close to a caress. Athelstan felt his body tense up so much that his jaw locked under the tension.

“Let me,” the alpha said in a low voice. Perhaps he was aiming for gentleness. If that were the case he was a man unused to gentleness. “Just here….” Lips pressed against Athelstan’s skin.

The door of the chamber exploded. There was no other way to explain it. It was kicked opened so hard that it nearly broke off its hinges. Behind it stood Ragnar’s wife and behind her skirt, Þórunn look defiantly at the alpha that was still holding him.

“ROLLO!” she growled in a tone that rivaled any alpha’s. The man, Rollo, casually released the omega he was holding. Athelstan crumbled to the floor almost instantly. Þórunn ran up to him and put her arms around him protectively. 

“I cannot believe you!” the queen roared. She looked close to physical violence. Rollo’s back was faced to Athelstan and he couldn’t tell how it was affecting him or if it had any effect at all. 

“Lagertha! He has not claimed him! It is not against the laws!” Rollo retorted.

“But he is your brother! Rollo, how could you,” she shot back. Each clan, each house had their own rules. This was well known.

“Ha! You act as if you support this union. Let me make him mine and get him out of your hair,” Rollo roared back. Athelstan jumped in shock. It was like watching two predators clash, captivating and frightening. 

“It is not for YOU or I to decide!” Lagertha said, her fist clenched so tight that her knuckles were a pale white.

“Ah! So it is for Ragnar to decide then?” Rolla replied mockingly, some of the fight draining from his shoulder. He sounded a little disappointed.

“No,” Ragnar’s beta wife answered. “It is for him to decide,” she said looking at Athelstan for the first time since she burst through the door. 

There was shift between the beta and the alpha, with Lagertha eyeing the alpha critically. After what felt like an extremely long standoff, Rollo’s shoulders dropped and Lagertha finally looked away from him. 

“Get him back to his room,” she ordered to Þórunn. The beta girl nodded as she helped the omega stand, Athelstan hadn’t realised that he had been shaking so badly until he actually stood. 

“It’s the rush,” Lagertha told him gently when he walked limply past her. “It will pass,” she assured him.

The last thing he remembered hearing as he made his way back to his room was Lagertha saying, “Ragnar will hear of this.”

**** 

Athelstan laid in his bed for most of the day, deciding that he was not going to leave his room in a while. In the beginning, Þórunn came and went from the room but after a while he told her not to go. So, she sat on the edge of his bed. No one spoke but her presence was of a comfort to him. 

At some point night had fallen and she moved to light new candles in his room. Then she set herself by his bed again and finally spoke, breaking the silence. “You should eat,” she said.

Athelstan frowned as he pushed himself up to lean against the headboard. He wasn’t hungry. He was pretty sure that Rollo had single-handedly killed off his appetite for the day. But he also knew that eating would put her at ease. 

“Alright, I will have some soup if you will have the bread,” he said, Þórunn looked as though she was about to argue but sighed in resignation. 

“Fine, but you have to finish yours,” she said as she brought the tray of food to the bed. 

If ever asked about what soup he had drank, Athelstan wouldn’t be able to tell you for the life of him but it was a pleasure to watch the young girl devour the bread with such zest. Athelstan found himself smiling for the first time since he had arrived here.

He was so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t heard the door of his chamber opening and closing till a familiar voice said, “You’d make a good mother.”

Both Þórunn and Athelstan looked up to find Ragnar leaning against the door. 

“Your Majesty!” Þórunn exclaimed around a mouthful of bread, hopping off the bed as Ragnar approached them.

She made a move to leave but looked to the alpha for permission first. Ragnar nodded, giving his consent. Athelstan watch as her small frame disappeared out the door, before a sense of nervousness began to creep into him. 

Ragnar moved, then stopped, looking uncertainly at Athelstan. With deliberate slowness, he sat down at the side of the bed, both legs over the edge.

“I am sorry. I promised that I wouldn’t hurt you and yet-,” he said, looking down at his hands. He had them balled up in a fist. 

That struck a cord in Athelstan’s chest. He reached over and pulled one of the alpha’s hands towards him, forcing the alpha to turn to face him. “That wasn’t you,” he said, catching Ragnar’s eye.

“Still, he is of my kin,” Ragnar said, the anger and disappointment seeping into his voice but he relaxed his hand to let Athelstan trace the tip of his fingers over his knuckles. From this close, he could see the bruises and small cuts across his skin.

Athelstan looked up from them, a little horrified. “Did you-”

“No, I wanted to. Badly.” The omega breathed a sigh in relief. That made Ragnar frown, and he caught Athelstan’s chin with the fingers of his other hand and leaned in close. “And what if I did?” he asked, his blue eyes searching the omega’s face before him. 

Athelstan’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide as his brows drew together. “You don’t think you’re worth it,” Ragnar noted in disbelief as he dropped his fingers.

Athelstan blinked, not understanding the problem. “But I am not,” he replied. Rollo was blood and kin and an alpha. A great warrior too he had heard. Athelstan was just an omega, as smart as he was, his sex would always hold him back. Too bad he isn’t a beta, he had always heard them say. 

Ragnar growled in frustration. It almost made Athelstan whine but he didn’t because he knew that the anger wasn’t directed at him. The alpha moved suddenly, in one swift motion, he slid onto the bed on his knees and pulled the omega on to his lap.

As he held him, Athelstan found himself to be surrounded by Ragnar’s scent. It was overwhelming. He felt the alpha push his nose on to his neck like the way Rollo had. But unlike with Rollo, it didn’t make him ill or apprehensive at the touch. 

“You smell too much like him here,” Ragnar grumbled as rubbed his face and beard against his neck and shoulder like a particularly large cat. 

The action somehow was oddly soothing. Athelstan found his legs relaxing, widening his stance as he settled more comfortably over the alpha’s thighs. After a moment, he heard a strange sound permitting the room. It was a low sound like a purr. The moment he noticed it, it stopped. Oh, oh! 

“I liked that,” Ragnar said, lifting his face from his neck. “That sound you make,” he added, his eyes had taken on a glassy look. 

Athelstan reached up with one hand to touch the alpha’s face, like he couldn’t quite believe that he had such an effect on the man. 

Ragnar leaned into his touch. When he opened his eyes they were clear and piercing again. “If I claimed you, would you believe in yourself more?” he asked, and suddenly Athelstan became aware of the hardness that pressed against him between his legs.

Ragnar must have seen whatever thoughts and emotion that were swirling in Athelstan’s eyes because he chuckled and shook his head. “But of course not at this moment,” he said, putting the omega at ease instantly. “I think that you have had enough excitement for the day. Tonight I just want to hold you,” he said as he lowered them both down onto the bed.

*****

Although Ragnar hadn’t actually claimed Athelstan yet, he still found it incredibly awkward around the servants, particularly around Lagertha’s servants. They seemed to treat him with an air of apprehensiveness which Athelstan felt he deserved. As for the Lady Lagertha herself, he hadn’t had the chance to speak to her since that fateful day. 

“Don’t feel too badly, Athelstan. Everyone’s a little confused about your status is all,” Þórunn explained. Ragnar had offered to gift Athelstan with a set of servants but the omega politely declined. So Ragnar gifted him Þórunn instead.

It felt a little odd receiving another human being as a gift but the omega viewed Þórunn more like a young friend than a servant. He briefly wondered if Ragnar had felt as odd when he received him as a gift or perhaps he received people as gifts all the time. The thought that he was gifted people all the time made him feel oddly uneasy.

“Look! It’s the shieldmaiden Lagertha!” Þórunn said as she pointed to a blond woman in the courtyard. Indeed it was, this was his chance, thought Athelstan. Without any hesitation he hurried up to the shieldmaiden. 

“Your majesty!” he called out. He was pretty sure that he was flaunting every royal decorum there was but Lagertha didn’t seemed like one who cared about decorum anyhow.

The beta woman turned to him, eyebrows slightly raised. She appeared to be teaching her children the art of the sword if the wooden sword in her son’s hands were anything to go by. The boy, Bjorn gripped his wooden sword a little tighter in his presence. Seeing the boy’s reaction hurt more than he had expected. 

“Bjorn, go,” the boy’s mother said, sending him off towards the direction of the straw practice dummies. 

“I am sorry,” Athelstan said as he watched the retreating back of the young beta boy. 

“What for?” Lagertha asked, puzzled as she turned back to look at the omega beside her.

“I-Me and Ragnar,” he said, stumbling over his words as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks.

The shieldmaiden scoffed. “Ragnar is a grown man, he is perfectly capable of being held accountable for his own actions.” 

Then she turned to Athelstan sharply. “Just as Rollo is responsible for his own actions,” she said. Athelstan blinked, taken aback. “I know you want to thank me for it, but you shouldn’t have to. It was the right thing to do. I would have done it for anyone in your situation.”

“I-I,” the omega stammered, feeling at a loss for words. No one had treated him like that before. She didn’t mollycoddle him or lord about her status over him, she simply treated him as if his sex made no difference.

“Thank you anyway... for everything,” he said as he rubbed his neck bashfully. 

Lagertha nodded nonchalantly, then her eyes narrowed. “I see that you still have yet to mate,” she remarked as she eyed his neck.

“No,” Athelstan admitted, feeling the blush rising in his cheeks. 

“Why not?” she asked. There was no malice in her tone, merely pure curiosity. 

“I am… unsure,” the omega replied, frowning at his own answer. “Sometimes I feel like there is nowhere else I want to be,” he said, closing his eyes as he remembered Ragnar’s scent and the strength of his arms. “But sometimes I don’t know how I fit in,” he added as he opened his eyes.

Lagertha twisted her lips. “You, little omega,” she said as she prodded him almost teasingly on the temple, “Think far too much. He loves you.”

“He also loves you,” Athelstan said, not to console the beta but because it was true. “You are his wife.” Lagertha was Ragnar’s first, she always would be and Athelstan respected her.

“Yes, but you’d be his mate,” she said, sounding a little sad.

****

The conversation with Lagertha haunted Athelstan's mind for days. It made his nights restless, and the lack of sleep made him feel off kilter. 

His dreams were strange, swaying between two extremes. Sometimes he awoke with a sheen of cold sweat, others left him wet and wanting. During those nights he wished that he hadn’t sent Ragnar back to his wife, but the thought in itself always sobered him. 

Athelstan wished that things were simple, that Ragnar wasn’t king, where both him and Lagertha needn’t have to worry about what the others thought of them and only of what they thought about themselves.

As it were, whenever he felt lost, he would turn to the books for guidance. Athelstan soon found himself spending all his time sitting in the library or what Ragnar referred to as ‘the room full of paper that only Floki seems to know what to do with.’ 

He almost stopped going because he had ran into Floki in there once and had no wish to run into the beta again. He was strange and had sniffed Athelstan all over, grinning madly as he muttered something about ‘time’ and ‘soon’. But in the end, his need to settle his restless mind won out.

The room was small and cramped with shelves; books and manuscripts lay strewn on every available surface. Buried under all the paper was a single table and little else, there must have been a chair at one point if the four scrape marks on the floor were of any indication. But the chair had long departed. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by the chaos, after all Ragnar had told him that Floki used the area most often.

There was something oddly unnerving about being in the place alone. As quick as he could, he skimmed through the materials before him, and picked those that looked most relevant to his concerns. He took as much as his arms could hold, unable to shake off the feeling of being watched.

The walk back to his chambers was long and Athelstan had to stop several times to bend down awkwardly and pick up the bits and pieces that had slipped from his arms. He was halfway to his chambers when he heard the sound of Ragnar’s laughter floating down the corridor, followed by tinkling female laughter that sounded like fine bells.

Athelstan found himself rooted to the spot as the sight of Ragnar walking closely, almost intimately with a slender beauty came into view from around the corner. He wasn’t sure if they had spotted him yet but he didn’t want to subject himself to waiting for the ensuing awkwardness. 

As fast as he could, he made an inelegant dash down the corridors and into his room, dropping bits of parchment behind him like a trail of little bread crumbs. Once inside, he let the books and manuscripts fall from his arms as he slammed the door shut with much more force than he had ever thought he could muster. 

His chest heaved and his heart was pounding as half a dozen emotions threatened to overcome him. Some part of his rational mind that remained told him that perhaps he should talk to Ragnar before drawing his conclusions. But the louder, more powerful part of his mind screamed discontent and betrayal. 

These were feelings that were unknown to him before now and the intensity of them frightened him. He clenched and unclenched his fist, punched his bed because it was a smarter choice than punching the wall. It felt painfully unsatisfying, so he screamed into his pillows and collapsed into his bed, drowning in his own emotions.

As he lay awkwardly among his pillows with loose bits of feathers about him, he realized how pathetic and ridiculous he must look. The imagery made him laugh into his pillow. He felt as if he must have lost his mind. 

Then his eyes widened in shock as a thought struck him. He hadn’t taken the herbs at all since he had arrived, mainly because the cloister didn’t give him any to bring but he hadn’t asked for any either. He had been on the herbs for most of his mature life; he had never ever been in heat. Suddenly he felt quite ill as he burrowed deeper into his covers. 

*****

When he awoke, it was almost dark and his room smelled like Ragnar but saturated by tenfold. He had apparently slipped away from the(?) while he was in his daze. Ragnar’s scent was heavy but there was also another scent present in the air. It seemed to mingle with Ragnar’s, on the verge of merging and not. Athelstan felt like his senses were heightened. He closed his eyes as the scents appeared in his mind’s eye so vividly, as if they were wafts of colours in his chambers.

“Athelstan,” Ragnar’s voice called out to him, laced with the sharp edge of desperation. The omega opened his eyes as he pushed himself up to his elbows. He found Ragnar’s form standing by the window, the last light of the day casting dark shadows over him.

He moved and Athelstan tensed, then he paused. “May I have you for this heat?” Ragnar asked, his eyes bright and piercing in the dark as he leaned forward, one hand resting tentatively at the edge of his bed. 

Athelstan swallowed thickly. He knew that as an omega that had more or less entered into a courtship with an alpha as powerful as the one before him, he had little choice but to agree.

“Tell me no, and I will leave,” Ragnar said, sounding pained as if he were forcing the words from his throat. “I would never hurt you,” he explained. For as long as Athelstan had known and seen of him, Ragnar was a proud man but now he was close to pleading.

Athelstan stared at the alpha before him, wide-eyed, then nodded as he said shakily, “I will have you.” 

With all the tension he saw in the alpha, he had expected Ragnar to pounce on him but the older man didn’t. Instead Ragnar crawled onto the bed and pulled him into a tender embrace.  
Athelstan allowed himself to go with his alpha for a moment, but a jarring scent slapped him in the face and he raised his hands to push back against Ragnar’s chest, distancing himself from the scent. 

“She was an omega?” Athelstan said, the words barely making it out of him as he felt his throat close up.

Ragnar looked guiltily back at him. “She means nothing. She is nothing,” he said. He had the tone of a man whose ground was crumbling beneath him. Athelstan pushed harder. He was angry and hurt and he knew that his rejection would hurt Ragnar more. But Ragnar would not let him go. “I am here am I not?” he said, his voice close to breaking.

“Because I am in heat,” the omega replied. He had stopped pushing. He was hot, his mind was barely his own and any emotion he felt passed through him with a dangerous intensity. 

“No,” Ragnar said, broken laughter falling from him. “No, because you brought me into rut,” he said. Athelstan froze, looking up at the man before him in disbelief. “And I am barely tethered,” the alpha admitted, his voice just above a whisper. 

“Ragnar,” Athelstan said, astounded by the man’s confession. His body, Ragnar’s body had chosen and it chose him.

Ragnar leaned in, their noses brushing. His touch felt cool upon Athelstan’s skin—he hadn’t even noticed how hot he was till now. When Ragnar’s lips were upon his, the kiss was gentle, almost as if he was afraid. As they parted, Athelstan wrinkled his nose. 

“I can still smell her on you,” he remarked, annoyed.

Ragnar laughed, the confidence that Athelstan knew him for returning. “Then drown it out with yours, my little omega,” he said as leaned in to kiss the younger man again.

This kiss was longer, deeper. It made Athelstan moan into his mouth as Ragnar’s tongue caressed his. He felt himself being lowered into the bed, with Ragnar’s body covering his. Instinctively, he parted his legs, and gasped in shock as he felt wetness slide from him. Ragnar smirked, obviously sensing the wetness through their layers of clothes. 

Ragnar pulled his shirt off himself as he slid back to place his feet on the floor, revealing the broad muscled body beneath it. He moved to remove his boots and his trousers. When all was finished, Ragnar stood proudly in the faint light of the moon as naked as the day he were born. Athelstan stared. He had seen Ragnar shirtless before but for the rest of him…

Athelstan clenched and felt more wetness seeping out of him. Ragnar’s nostrils flared. The alpha crawled back on top of him with more urgency to his movements now.

He divested Athelstan of his shirt and slid his hands down the omega’s now bare sides, pausing when he reached the band of his trousers. Athelstan looked down and their eyes met for a moment before Ragnar pulled the remaining fabric off his hips, revealing the wetness between his thighs, glistening in the moonlight.

“You are beautiful,” Ragnar said in awe. Athelstan blushed, though he felt himself to be much too pale and slight compared to Ragnar. Ragnar leaned in and kissed him like a man starved. Athelstan felt the roughness of his beard against his skin, a contrast to the softness of the lips upon his.

Ragnar moved his hands from his face to his neck, and from his neck to his chest. The alpha scrapped the nails of his thumbs over the omega’s sensitive nipples and Athelstan arched his back against the sensation. Then he moved lower, past his hips and thighs. Athelstan felt his body jump and curl up against the tips of Ragnar’s fingers.

“Alright?” he asked, pressing lightly at the opening of the omega’s body. Athelstan felt himself flush, he didn’t even know if it was possible from him to turn even redder but it seemed that he could. No one had ever touched him there before, not even himself. It was a sin to do so in the cloister.

Ragnar waited patiently for his reply, but Athelstan was so beyond words at this point that he only nodded dumbly.

When Ragnar pressed against him, he squeezed his eyes shut. He had expected it to hurt but it didn’t. Ragnar’s finger slipped in easily. He opened his eyes in surprise. He could not believe he had someone in him.

He watched entranced as Ragnar slid his finger out and brought it to his lips to suck the wetness off of it. “You are ready,” he said as his knees shifted up the bed, Athelstan parted his legs wider, letting Ragnar between them. 

He felt his heartbeat rising again as his alpha lowered himself down. Ragnar paused. He raised his hand and caressed the side of Athelstan’s face as he leaned down to kiss him, tongue and lips driving all thoughts from his mind.

There was a slight nudge against his hole and when he opened around Ragnar, the feeling was so overwhelming that he threw his head back and gasped. Ragnar stilled in his movements, waiting for Athelstan to catch his breath before he moved again.

“Athelstan,” Ragnar groaned, straining with the effort to keep his thrusting as slow and gentle as he could. Athelstan wrapped his arms around the alpha’s neck, pulling them closer together, trapping his cock between their bodies.

“Oh,” Athelstan said, his eyes flitting shut briefly as be felt as though a cord had been struck within him. Each time Ragnar rocked against him, he felt himself get wetter and the head of his cock began to weep.

The slide of their bodies mingling with the harshness of their breaths sounded so beautifully obscene together. A heat began to pull between Athelstan’s thighs and he wrapped his legs around his alpha’s waist, ankles locking together on the larger man’s lower back, as he tightened around Ragnar. 

“Gods! Athelstan!” Ragnar moaned as he thrust harder, a primal need overtaking his body.

“Ragnar! Ragnar, please!” Athelstan cried, he was begging but begging for what he had no idea. He only knew that he needed. 

The friction of it and the fullness within him, it pulled his body into a state that he had never known. Like a song reaching higher and higher. The scents and sounds that filled him caused his head to swim; his body was no longer just his own. 

Ragnar let out a growl that was more animal than human and Athelstan felt a sharp pain blooming from his neck. Inside him, Ragnar seemed to swell as he pulsed hotly deep within him. 

Athelstan felt his body arch and lock, his eyes fluttering open and close as he reached his peak, his lips parted as he came between their bodies. Around them their scent melded into one.

Athelstan stroked down the spine of Ragnar’s sweat covered back, settling his hand on the side of his ribs, feeling it rise and fall as his alpha caught his breath. He had expected Ragnar to be much heavier than he did. He had a feeling that the alpha was still partially holding his body up so that his full weight wouldn’t bear down on the omega. 

After a moment, Ragnar wrapped one hand around his waist and rolled them over so that Athelstan was on top and he was below. The movement caused the knot to pull at Athelstan’s hole, causing the omega to wince.

“Sorry,” Ragnar said softly, as if he were concerned that speaking any louder would make the moment disappear. “Are you alright?” he asked, as his fingers traced the way Athelstan was stretched around him. It made the omega’s cock twitch and his alpha laughed. 

Then he reached upwards to trace gently against the side of the omega’s neck, against the bond mark. Athelstan’s breath hitched and his body felt warm all over. He felt suddenly very aware of how their chest moved in tandem with one another, and how their hearts beat together. As though they were one.

Athelstan looked into his mate’s eyes and for the first time in his life he felt whole, and he knew that Ragnar too felt completed in the same way.  
 


End file.
